


Faultlines

by iwearplaids



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Modern magical, F/M, heavy au, honestly it's just the two of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:53:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwearplaids/pseuds/iwearplaids
Summary: I dig til my shovel tells a secret, Swear to the earth that I will keep it, Brush off the dirt, And let my change of heart occur.- Earth, Sleeping at last.She stares at him with those burdened eyes and he doesn’t know how to feel about that. They’re worrying and sad. Devastatingly sad. Like she had lost something that made her life whole and now she doesn’t know how to deal with anything anymore.





	Faultlines

**Author's Note:**

> Sold soon after the appraisal, The hammer struck the auction table, Louder than anything I've ever heard.
> 
> The heaviness that I hold in my heart belongs to gravity.

He comes awake slowly.

It’s a haze. All of it.

He can’t remember how he got here, or why he is here. But when he comes awake to the smell of antiseptics and lights too harsh above his head, he knows where he is.

His body feels a little too heavy, but he knows that’s to be expected. He racks his head for the reason why he is there. He doesn’t remember being hurt. Doesn’t remember ever being in a life-threatening situation either.

He tries to get up and instantly falls back on the bed from the pain radiating through his shoulder. Amarendra notices for the first time since he’d woken up that his left shoulder is tightly wrapped and _that_ ’s the reason he is in a hospital bed.

It takes him a moment after he has noted his injury to notice the woman sitting beside his bed. She is fidgeting with a ring in her hand, studying him.

He feels weird that he doesn’t feel weird at all. That this woman with a kind unfamiliar face observing him does not make him uncomfortable.  If anything, it calms him a little. He knows that she has got the answers to all his questions.

The woman lets out a heavy breath and breaks the silence.

“How do you feel ?”

She stares at him with those burdened eyes and he doesn’t know how to feel about _that_. They’re worrying and sad. Devastatingly sad. Like she had lost something that made her life whole and now she doesn’t know how to deal with anything anymore.

“Feels like I almost died.” Is what he means to say, but he’s sure that half those words came out inaudible.

He lets out a chuckle at the joke he made, but her lips don’t even twitch. She manages to look more serious and heartbroken than before. He wants to take that look away from her face, more than anything, he wants to make her smile. She might be an unfamiliar face, but he doesn’t want it to stay that way.

He thinks he must’ve said something aloud ~~or she can read mind~~ because she replies, “You … you got caught in a crossfire at a gas station. Some dimwit was trying to rob a store. I found you injured and brought you to the hospital.”

She pauses. Carefully choosing her words.

“I’m Devasena.” She says it like she’s revealing a sacred secret, like it pains her to utter those words.

“Amarendra.”, he whispers. Not because it’s a secret, but his throat is still dry and talking doesn’t feel all that comfortable.

Her eyes well up and before he knows it she’s at the door muttering a half-willed excuse _I have to get back to work_.

She’s out the door before he can word an argument.

* * *

 

The moment the door closes behind her, Devasena loses her controlled and sobs into her hands. It’s loud and ugly and she can feel people around her staring.

She clings to the ring in her hand. _His_ ring. She still remembers putting the ring on his finger. She was crying then, too, but the reason couldn’t be more different.

It was an uneventful day. She was at work when she got the call. For a moment she’d thought that she died. Because there was no way, _no way_ , that _her husband_ could die, and world could continue to spin.

That was unfair.

She didn’t cry then. Not a single tear. Because she knew what she had to do.

She would sell her soul if it came to it but wouldn’t live in a world without Amarendra Baahubali.

She didn’t end up selling her soul. No, she did much worse.

She sold their love.

_Darling, love like yours are worth a million souls._

So, she gave it.

Amarendra would live but, their love wouldn’t. He would wake up to see another sunrise but, he wouldn’t wake up to her. He wouldn’t wake up with the urge to hug her and love her and spend every moment with her. He wouldn’t wake up with the memories of kissing her for the first time, of hushed voices sharing secrets in a dimmed room. He would never wake up next to her again.

But he would wake up. And that’s all that mattered to her.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it ? Love it ? Hate it ? Please leave a comment and let me know. Constructive criticism is always welcomed with open arms.


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